


The Airplane Woman

by ThatSameSong



Category: Sierra Burgess Is a Loser (2018)
Genre: Airports, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Ficlet, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Canon Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Reflection, Short One Shot, Sierra Burgess is an Awful Person, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is The Only Work I'll Be Writing for This Fandom, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 01:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18021908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSameSong/pseuds/ThatSameSong
Summary: Two years after high school, Sierra Burgess finally sees Jamey again.





	The Airplane Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Detested the ending of "Sierra Burgess is a Loser", so I decided to write my own. My goal was to write an alternate ending that would convey the original message of the movie, but in a better way that didn't reward Sierra's abhorrent actions. 
> 
> Title is a reference to "Be An Airplane Man" by Paul Amrod.

She saw him at the airport.

She recognized him immediately for some reason, like she'd been holding the image in her head since high school. Actually, maybe she had. She definitely hadn't forgotten what he looked like. How could she? He was really—and this made Sierra sad, but she couldn't help it—the only boy she'd ever truly fallen for in her life.

Sierra tried not to notice him in the hopes he wouldn't notice her. But of course there was no way he could have recognized her. She'd changed her hair, started wearing make-up for better or for worse, lost quite a few pounds. She wasn't particularly happy with any of this, but it was all she could think of doing. High school had been two years ago. Sierra wanted to be different.

But she couldn't stop herself from remembering. Remembering how Jamey looked at her the last time they talked. His face had been filled with so much disgust. And at the time, Sierra didn't understand. She didn't understand what she'd done wrong. She didn't understand why Veronica hated her, why even her best friend Dan ditched her a few weeks later.

She eventually realized it, studying herself in the mirror. Of course Jamey didn't like her. Of course Veronica never wanted to see her again. Of course even Dan left.

Sierra was a loser. She knew she was a loser. Everyone around her knew she was a loser. And of course an ugly loser like her was never going to end up with a guy like Jamey. That was all it was. The fact that Sierra was a complete loser. She still was, despite the weight loss and the new hair and the make-up she carefully applied in the mirror every day.

Sierra lingered by the vending machines. Jamey still hadn't seen her. He was doing something on his phone. Probably texting Veronica. Sierra was sure they'd kept in touch after high school. He'd made an effort to ignore Sierra, to pretend she didn't exist. But of course beautiful Veronica didn't receive this treatment.

Sierra leaned against the machine. Maybe she should say something to him. But what could she have said at this point? That she was sorry? She'd said that before. She'd written a song about it, or at least that was what Sierra intended it to be about. She wasn't sure the lyrics conveyed any of that, not that it mattered to her at the time.

Someone was walking up to Jamey. Approaching him deliberately, like they knew him. A woman. Around Jamey's age, maybe a year younger or older.

Sierra tensed. She didn't know this woman. This woman wasn't someone who'd associate herself with Sierra Burgess. Slim and pretty. Perfect make-up. Perfect features. High heels. This woman looked like a model.

The woman said something to Jamey. Something that made him laugh.

All Sierra could think about was that look of disgust on Jamey's face. Their last meeting. The last time they ever spoke. Thinking about it gave Sierra an impulse, a cruel impulse she had to fight against. She wanted to scream. Draw attention to herself. Ruin Jamey's good time. But she couldn't do that. No matter how awful she felt, she couldn't do that.

Sierra slumped against the vending machine. She wasn't sure who she hated anymore. Sometimes it was Veronica, sometimes it was Jamey, other times it was herself. Sometimes it was her parents, even though that wasn't fair. They were taking a family vacation. Reconnecting with each other. Sierra felt like she hadn't talked to her parents since high school, since the Jamey incident.

The woman was pointing at someone. Someone Sierra couldn't see. The woman was beckoning someone over. Her fingers were slim, her fingernails long and polished pink.

Sierra watched. She watched how Jamey's face changed, how his expression shifted from happiness to elation. Not disgust. Never disgust. No, he was only disgusted by Sierra, only repulsed by Sierra. No one else could have elicited that kind of reaction from him.

Another woman was walking up to Jamey. She looked like the first woman, but only in an abstract sense. Not slim. Not tall. Features imperfect. It was Sierra, if Sierra hadn't lost the weight, if she hadn't started wearing make-up. The face was different, the hair was different. But she had the exact same body type, the same unremarkable features.

The second woman—the one who looked like Sierra—embraced Jamey. He pulled her close, they kissed. They laughed together. They were happy. Jamey wasn't disgusted, he wasn't repulsed. Because this woman wasn't Sierra Burgess.

Sierra stared at herself, studied her reflection in the vending machine. The weight she'd lost. The make-up. The hair. She didn't get to kiss Jamey. She didn't get to hug him. She didn't get to meet him at the airport and pretend high school never happened.

Jamey wrapped his arm around the second woman, pulling her close. All three of them—the two women and Jamey—were laughing. Smiling. None of them saw Sierra Burgess.

Sierra ran a hand across the side of her face, smearing her cheap make-up. She didn't care how it looked. She'd never actually cared. Or at least Sierra thought she didn't. But now she was alone and all she could do was care.

Her parents would be wondering where she was, what she was doing. They'd probably ask her what had happened to her make-up. And Sierra would lie to them, make up some dumb excuse. She wouldn't tell them about seeing Jamey.

She'd gotten one thing right, back in high school. Sierra Burgess really was a loser.


End file.
